


Happy Birthday, John Watson.

by little_seahorse



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Borrowers
Genre: Gen, Little bit of Fluff, tiny!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_seahorse/pseuds/little_seahorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's John's birthday! He wasn't expecting a present from Sherlock...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, John Watson.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chasingriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingriver/gifts).



> I hereby dedicate this to the wonderful chasingriver. <3 xo
> 
> This is a little ball of fluff with no nutritional value whatsoever. Inspired by reading ALL the tiny!John/Borrower!John fics.

"Sherlock! You didn't have to get me anything!"

John looked up at Sherlock from his perch on the edge of the kitchen table.  
It's common knowledge that Sherlocks don't blush, but John guessed that common knowledge was, in this instance, pleasantly mistaken.

"Well, if you don't want it..." Sherlock made to hide the little box back in his pocket, but the look on his friends face made him pause.

John folded his arms across his chest, cocking one hip to the side and radiating 'I'm Waiting.'

A broad grin chased the bashful pink from Sherlock's cheeks and he carefully placed John's present on the table.  
John marched over to the box, which was three times as tall as he, insepcting the luxe moss-green wrapping paper for clues. Sherlock looked on with amusement, leaning forward to rest elbows on table, and resting his chin in his hands.

"There's nothing I really need, Sherlock. This is very kind of you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave John a gentle little nudge , eager for his response to three weeks of planning and scheming.

John finally stopped his pacing, and drew the sharp tack he kept sheathed in his belt. The belt itself was fashioned from a lovely supple length of tan shoelace.  
It is a very useful tool for Johns to possess, and the proud glint of the sharpened pin warned all who beheld it, 'Beware of Johns, or Taste Steel.'

With a final grin at Sherlock, John got to work. Back and forth he dashed, slicing at seams and sawing at ribbons, carefully peeling the lovely paper away from the cardboard. When the box was at last revealed, John was as close to guessing its contents as when he began.

The brown corrugated box gave nothing away. Sherlock continued to smile as John carefully scaled the side.

He climbs methodically, preparing the way with purposeful jabs of his pin, slicing John-sized foot and hand holds here and there.  
In less than a minute, John reached the summit, smiling at Sherlock in triumph. 

Impatient now, and quite excited, John uncrossed the flaps at the top, pushing three away and testing the fourth for its viability as a springboard.  
Sherlock chuckled in delight when John gave a solemn little salute before diving headfirst into the crunchy packing peanuts within.

Several peanuts were tossed from the box by John's speedy kicks, until finally, John reaches his goal and gives a mighty shove, toppling the box onto its side.  
John slides out on a wave of peanuts, scrambling to stand and examine the sleek black and silver oblong that followed him.

"Oh, Sherlock..." John gasps, looking up at his friend from the mess of peanuts and paper.

Sherlock maintained a poker-face, but has precisely zero control over the warmth in his eyes. 

John approaches his gift, lifting it up and turning it over in his hands. 

"Well, aren't you going to switch it on?" Sherlock asks.

John is biting his bottom lip, and looking very sad indeed. 

"John?"

"It's wonderful, Sherlock, truly...but I can't accept this. It's too much! I'm very sorry, but I must ask you to return it."

Sherlock gaped at John.

"But...John, I don't understand. It is yours! From me, to you. I won't take it back, it belongs to you! It was made for you."

John still looked fairly miserable as he sat down, holding onto the shiny little phone and shaking his head.  
Sherlock frowned, unprepared for this eventuality. He swiftly hit upon an idea...

"It's as much a gift for me, you know."

John looked up, puzzlement written all over his face.

"How do you mean?"

"Well," Sherlock replied, "it will be very convenient for me, and for my work, if I can contact you when we're apart, without the risk of deafening you, or waiting ten minutes every time you try to type a text message."

John is nodding a little, but still frowning, so Sherlock presses his advantage.

"John, you really must accept - I had to call in a favour with Mycroft, you know."

John looked up at Sherlock with wide eyes. 

"Oh, Sherlock, i'm sorry. It was very rude of me to refuse. You've gone to a lot of effort."

Sherlock smiled softy. 

"My pleasure. Happy Birthday John."

John stood up, walking to Sherlock's elbows and waiting for Sherlock to open a hand for him. When he obliged, John climbed carefully onto the warm, flat palm, holding his gift close.  
When they are eye to eye, John leans forward and places a kiss on the end of Sherlock's nose.

"Thankyou very much, Sherlock. It's wonderful."

Sherlock opened his eyes, smiling at his friend, feeling warm and calm and terrifically pleased with himself.

"Well, turn it on! It's got all the features of any other MePhone, a web browser, email, camera, music library..."

John smiled, glad all over to have such a kind and clever bean as Sherlock Holmes for a friend.


End file.
